


there she goes

by sightstone (symmetrophobic)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, sort of wistful thinking and cuteness?, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symmetrophobic/pseuds/sightstone
Summary: there are times when kyuseok anchors junhyung, and times when all he wants to do is let him dream.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oathsworn (onelastchence)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelastchence/gifts).



> title taken from [a song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trig1MiEo1s), by imagine dragons.

Kyuseok’s lips are sticky from cake frosting and cheap alcohol when he sets his bag down, uncharacteristically not bothering to unpack yet, despite the restless buzz in his limbs.

Euphoria bubbles at the back of his throat like champagne from the win against Afreeca, threatening to spill out, and he turns, fingers jittery, as the rest of them filter in, Hyunsik and Junhyung locked in their everyday competition to see who can make the most noise in the shortest span of time. Jongbin’s already unpacking with a discipline that never fails to amaze Kyuseok, and Gunmo’s messing with his monitor as a way to escape Hyunsik, who’s still trying to to drag him into the argument.

“-…and then it all went downhill from there,” Hyunsik says, setting his bag down noisily- their coach makes a face from some distance away. Gaming keyboards are expensive, you know. “Kyuseok-ah, what do you think?”

The jungler makes the mistake of looking over, seeing the stubborn set to Junhyung’s jaw and feeling mirth tug at the edge of his lips. “I don’t know.”

“This is serious!” Hyunsik looks scandalised, as Kyuseok beelines for the bathroom to wash up before the rest do. In the distance, he can hear Gunmo quietly despairing, and Hyunsik giving up on their toplaner, turning to his long-suffering support. “Jongbin ah, okay listen, so Junhyung and I were talking and-…”

The nasal sound of Hyunsik’s voice gets drowned out in the gush of water from the tap, and the frigid splash of it on his face seems to sober him up somewhat. A messy checklist forms in his head as he presses the heel of his palm to his eyelids, relieving a little of the ache from staring at his monitor all day. _Review the match tonight. Then soloqueue, watch the Samsung VODs that Coach had set aside, and-…_

“Hey.”

Kyuseok blinks- everything is blurry without his prescription glasses, but he could probably recognise that voice through a smoky PC Bang of teenaged boys spewing vulgarities on a Friday night. “Hey.”

Junhyung is standing there when Kyuseok puts his glasses on, still wearing that stupid surprise birthday cake hat the fans had gifted him with after the match, an even stupider smile on his face. “We did it.”

“One match,” the jungler reminds him, but the champagne-bubble anticipation is back, making him anxious in an elated kind of way. This must translate to something on his face, because Junhyung’s smile widens.

“I didn’t think we were going to,” he confesses, shoulder bumping against the doorway as he leans against it, the candles on his hat wobbling dangerously. Kyuseok resists the urge to lean over and catch them before they fall. “They rotated so well in their last match, and by the second game I thought-…I thought that was it.”

“I told you during the break,” Kyuseok shrugs, but he’s smiling. “You thought we were going to let you lose on your birthday?”

Junhyung lets out a laugh that’s more like a stuttering breath- his eyes are shining, and he’s dreaming, Kyuseok knows, dreaming of a glittering stage, an exclusive finals opening video and a plane ticket to MSI in five months.

This would be the time when the jungler or the support would bring him back down to Earth, remind him that they were very much at the bottom of the food chain, that it would take a miracle for them to end up anywhere remotely near the top, but now is now, and now a quiet ache in Kyuseok’s chest wants to let Junhyung dream.

“We could do this,” Junhyung whispers, half to himself, and Kyuseok lets the sound of it carry him, lets it drown out the voice of calm at the back of his head that tells him _no, you’ll never get there if you stay here._ “We just need to practice, we’ll get better, we can-…we can make playoffs this season. I know we can.”

There’s a pause, as that hangs between them, deafening compared to the muted buzz of Hyunsik and Jongbin speaking outside, and Kyuseok’s heart swells traitorously.

“Yeah?” he says, voice both quietly dismissive and wistful at the same time.

“You think so, right?” Junhyung’s eyes are bright, voice hopeful in a tender, vulnerable sort of way that makes Kyuseok want to hide him away, in a world that won’t ever let him down again. And-…

“Yeah,” he breathes out, navigating around the _of course_ and _maybe_ he might once have been inclined to give. Despite the tremor within him, his voice is clear, and this seems to be what Junhyung needs to hear, because he grins, straightening up again, like there’s a spring in his step despite the fact that he’s standing still.

“Help me take a photo later? With the birthday presents from the fans? Just let me clean up first,” he says, stepping out of the way as Gunmo slips in, wriggling out of Hyunsik’s clutches to wash his face.

“Sure,” Kyuseok elbows the little toplaner out of the way, grinning as he elicits a grumbling whine of _just ‘cause I’m youngest doesn’t mean you can push me around_ , splashing water on his face one last time before heading out after Junhyung. “You want to powder your face before I take it? Draw your eyes maybe?”

“Oh, har har,” the midlaner rolls his eyes as he walks into their room. “Hey Mister Visual, this might come as a shock to you, but it actually takes effort for most of the human population to look as good as you on a daily basis.”

Kyuseok blinks and stops in his tracks, then grins, waiting for the _haha, you thought I was gonna call you handsome,_ but Junhyung continues on his way, humming as he walks in alone.

From a metre away, Hyunsik clears his throat loudly and unnecessarily as he unpacks his keyboard. Gunmo’s poking his head out from the bathroom, beady eyes watching him curiously, and Jongbin just looks about done with everything.

“Hey!” the midlaner calls from the bedroom, and there’s a _thump_ of the wardrobe door closing. “You going to change or not?”

Kyuseok hurries on, sending a dirty look at Hyunsik before he does. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

The ceiling light casts a stark, bright light on Junhyung when the jungler walks in, and he has to blink a few times to get used to it. He pokes into the wardrobe, taking a deep breath, and: “You uh, played. Well. Today.”

Junhyung looks through the tiny built-in mirror at him with some confusion, and Kyuseok clears his throat. “MVP award and all, you know.”

“Oh,” Junhyung laughs. “Well. Thanks. I thought it should’ve gone to you, you know- you set most of those up for me-…don’t think about claiming it now, those MVP points are mine,” he snickers, ducking out of Kyuseok’s reach as he scuttles out of the room, heading for the bathroom.

All of a sudden, then, there’s just the sound of Kyuseok’s breathing and the distant noises of protest as Junhyung evicts Gunmo from the bathroom (they really ought to cut him some slack sometime (sometime), he thinks critically), Jongbin telling Hyunsik as politely as a dongsaeng can to his hyung to _sit down and stop making noise,_ and their head coach reminding them to clock a few hours of soloqueue before sleeping tonight, but for some reason, Kyuseok realises he’s never felt less alone.

The shreds of the offers in black and white he’d had to throw away before the season started, that had remained wedged like shards of glass in his chest, go up in little flames, and he smiles, then, closing the wardobe door, and walking out to join them.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> to my embuipee ray for taking all my crying about this team, hope this fulfills your eean/beeyondeul req. im also sorry if this fic pales a tad in comparison to slut!crownbition :""") if our friendship does not survive past this tuesday, i'd like u to know i am eternally grateful that u brought me down into the hell of esports :D /s (also it's add not ed don't fight me on this)
> 
> to everyone, the [mvp](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C2xiFy6WEAEbbU4.jpg) train is now boarding, please feel free to jump on? ;; ian and beyond are [actual](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C2xdkaIVIAI72yZ.jpg) [cuties](https://twitter.com/kingkyuseok/status/822999013225951232), please love them ;u; hmu if u wanna talk mvp/skt!! (or...a lot of lck and some lpl, or anything tbh...) 
> 
> yep :) comments and kudos are appreciated, ahehe \o/ thank you~


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